


now that's a sex nightmare

by aroray



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs With Teeth, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, dubcon, gavin is a snake man?, hell trash, sex nightmare, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroray/pseuds/aroray
Summary: Uh oh. (Geoff has gotta stop drinking before bed.)





	now that's a sex nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains dubiously consensual sex! Please don't read it if that makes you nervous or upset.

Geoff should have known fucking better than to drink right before bed.

Well! That one’s on his dick. Fuckin’ oops! Drunk nightmare time. This always happens, why is he so stupid and dumb.

Geoff’s brain is very good at freaking him out. It’s part of the reason he hates horror games so much- it picks up the scariest shit and packs it away for a convenient night to freak him the fuck out and wake him up screaming. 

And those convenient nights are 95% after he passes out drunk. Why. Does. He Do. This.

So, like. Fuck Drunk Geoff, is the summary.

He can’t remember if he was in a forest before. Thinks the dream started in the office- yeah, it did, he was in the dark in the office and lost and Gavin was there but then he wasn’t and now he’s not. Probably. Hopefully. Geoff really doesn’t wanna have a fucked up nightmare about Gavin, of all fucking people. He had a nightmare once where Jack was there. That was… bad.

Anyways, he- mostly knows this is a dream right now. Nightmare. Bad dream, not quite a nightmare yet, but he can tell already it’s headed there because he’s lost and it’s dark and there’s an ominous hissing from behind him (no matter which direction he turns) that’s rolling into his stomach and settling low in his gut like poison. The most unsettling, uncomfortable part is the very quiet, very familiar giggle that interrupts the hiss every now and then. He can’t actually place it, just knows he knows it and that’s setting his hair on end like nothing else in this shitfuck hell place.

So he’s more lost, now, in a forest he doesn’t want to recognize so he refuses to. He wishes it was that easy to change the rest of the shit.

Like the unmistakable sound of heavy slithering over leaves and dry dirt.

And the fleeting hot wet wind over the back of his neck every now and again.

And how he can’t run, just stumble drunkenly.

The classics, you know?

He trips hard enough to send him tumbling into the ground and half into a tree, scrapes one palm bloody and knocks the breath out of his lungs. Starts to push himself upright but catches something out the corner of his eye that- fucking. God. Freezes him where he crouches and forces his breath shallow and harsh in his throat. Hissing, slithering, just noises. Geoff can handle noises. Absolutely cannot handle the fucking massive reptilian tail whipping out of sight into the undergrowth. 

He hears a choked whimper and takes a second to figure it must have been him. 

Unfortunately, there’s an answering laugh like three inches from his ear.

With an utterly unintelligible yellscream Geoff wrenches around, expects to see nothing, sees Gavin, shrieks even more unintelligibly, and falls backwards onto his ass. 

“Hey Geoff!” Gavin says cheerfully. He waves a little, seemingly unperturbed by Geoff’s terror (not that it’s an unusual thing for him to be blase about Geoff’s impending heart attacks) and. Well.

Slithers closer.

Geoff takes in the fact that the thing that scares him least and thing that scares him most have morphed into one. He’s not pleased, but isn’t quite sure how to put into words how much he hates this right now and how much he wishes Gavin would stop being half snake like a really bad really awful mistake mermaid. Kind of precisely like a fucked up mermaid, where the fish part is a snake part and melds smoothly(ish) into Gavin’s torso at the hips, higher on the back and the front where the scales lighten and litter his stomach in a kind of imitation happy trail (unhappy trail. misery trail). Logically enough, he isn’t technically half snake. More like… 80% snake. 90%, even. Enough that he can sensibly support himself, and… eugh. Slither around. It’s just- there’s a horrifying amount of snake, okay. Any amount of snake is horrifying, but especially in any way attached to Gavin.

So, reasonably, Geoff responds “Oh my god. Ooohhhh Christ.”

Gavin makes a smug face, the one he does when he’s startled the living shit out of Geoff. It’s deeply surreal, surrounded as it is by the darkness and dead silence and around the eyes Geoff is only just now noticing, a deep metallic copper that catches the low light, the vertical oval pupils that expand sideways as he stares. “Gotcha,” he says, obviously pleased with himself. Geoff catches sight of his teeth as he says it, goes lightheaded at the glimpse of slim canines, the unnatural way Gavin’s tongue is moving in his mouth. 

The tongue in question flickers out, not quite licking his lips but not exactly like a reptile tastes the air either. It’s unmistakably forked. 

Geoff thinks he might pass out.

When Gavin’s scaly hips twist closer to the ground and stomach hits the dirt next to Geoff’s legs his head swims, hands shaking where they support him and elbows buckling. Faster than he can really process right now Gavin squirms into his lap, face too close and the rest of his body coiling messily behind him. Part of it twists over Geoff’s legs and spills to the side, stunningly heavy.

The rich, cold scent of copper and disturbed soil wafts over Geoff, coats the roof of his mouth in a layer he can taste, almost feel. There’s also the indescribable simple smell of cold-blooded; it roots a more base panic in Geoff’s stomach, sends alarm bells ringing in every part of him. 

His knees ache fiercely under the way Gavin’s body is pinning them and as it spikes he makes an involuntary noise of pain. Gavin frowns, looks over his shoulder, mutters an apology and coils himself up tighter, looping so his weight rests on Geoff’s thighs instead. Then Gavin looks back at him and Geoff wishes he’d just shut up because then maybe Gavin would’ve stayed further away and maybe he wouldn’t be seeing the horrible copper eyes up close or the tiny shiny scales flecked over Gavin’s face like freckles or the way his upper lip bumps subtly up on each side over what seem to be size-appropriate fangs.

He can’t help the terrified breath he sucks in at the sight. Gavin grins, and the fang theory is confirmed as they’re revealed, sliding fully into view over his bottom lip and flashing in the low light. 

They’re fucking huge. 

All Geoff can think about is how they would tear into flesh like it was nothing.

He doesn’t comprehend what Gavin says next, the noise meaningless as he watches Gavin’s mouth moving, bifurcated tongue flicking around sharp teeth and fangs. Gavin repeats himself impatiently, tail slapping the ground, and the harsh thump snaps him to attention. Luckily Gavin seems more amused by Geoff’s inattention than anything else. 

“You like the new look that much, Geoffrey?”

Geoff realizes, to his absolute and complete horror and humiliation, that he’s hard.

He’s always had a, uh, unique reaction to stress and adrenaline, but never- it’s never been this intense. Never been a reaction to genuine fear. Geoff can only assume it’s part of the dream, especially since the realization was so abrupt, the wave of heat that drenches him utterly unexpected. It doesn’t tamp down the panic at all. Encourages it, really, speeding up his heartbeat until he thinks he can feel it humming in his chest, shaking him almost out of his skin.

“Um,” he replies weakly, making a completely useless attempt to shove himself out from under Gavin. “No? I, uh, I mean- no? Can you- get off me? Please?” His voice cracks so hard on the last word it’s barely audible squeaking out of his throat.

Gavin does not get off him. Instead, his top half oozes- it’s the only word to describe it, he oozes- down Geoff’s chest, stomach pressing against Geoff’s crotch, eyes going narrow and soft. His torso barely moves a foot total but the rest of him keeps moving, shifting in the unsettling manner of large snakes where some sections will move and arch and slide and others press for leverage and overall create the impression of five huge snakes rather than one huge snake. It’s possibly the most terrifying thing Geoff’s ever seen. An honest-to-god sob catches in his chest. Then another, as Gavin slides further down and the heaviest part of his body- the thickest, right below his hips- forces Geoff’s legs apart by weight and smoothness alone.

Gavin’s hands curl around his waist and drag over his hips, catch the hem of his shirt and come back up onto bare skin. Geoff’s head is too muddled with fear and he’s too focused on watching the rest of Gavin still settling to figure out what’s going on until he feels Gavin’s arms hooking over his thighs, looks down to see fangs at dick height and instantly shrieks. Even then he’s confused until Gavin dips his head, presses his mouth to the crease of Geoff’s thigh and then to the bared skin of his hip. His breath is cool even through the denim, corpse cold on skin and Geoff freezes, fingers digging desperately into the soil. 

“Oh my god,” Gavin says, completely unmoved by Geoff’s struggling. “Shut up, would you.”

It turns out snake Gavin is just as fumbly and clumsy with his hands as waking Gavin is, fumbling with Geoff’s belt buckle and then legitimately failing with his button. It’s almost enough to take the edge off Geoff’s panic and he manages a hiccupy laugh, starts to raise an arm to try and push at Gavin’s shoulder-

A full-bodied, loud, frustrated hiss comes out of Gavin’s mouth and all the panic is back times two.

“Oh god,” Geoff- well, okay, he squeaks, to be honest. It’s embarrassing, even in this situation, and even more so when Gavin giggles at him, looking up with eyes squinted in glee. 

It’s easier to see the Gavin under the layer of snake like that, again, and abruptly Geoff isn’t just turned on in the sense of his dick, but in the sense of heat rising under his skin and staining him red from cheekbones to chest. He may or may not have imagined a similar look on a Gavin about to put a dick in a mouth before. No need to specify which dick or which mouth, okay.

That Gavin, however, did not have fangs or the ability to get annoyed at Geoff’s pants and just rip denim with his bare hands. Holy fucking shit. Hooooooly fucking shit. The entire zipper and button mechanism comes apart, and Gavin tugs the whole mess down Geoff’s thighs just enough for it to be out of the way. Geoff can’t tell if it’s hot or scary. There doesn’t seem to be much of a difference right now, and the sound coming out of Geoff’s mouth could be either. 

Gavin kisses along the band of his briefs, openmouthed and impatient, and it tips one way. Scrapes his teeth across Geoff’s skin and punctures the cloth, tugging, and it tips the other, tempering off into an inaudible whine. When the chill night air hits his dick Geoff gasps, jumping, swears. 

Gavin grins up at him and takes it in one dead-cold hand, seemingly colder than the ambient temperature, lowers his head. It’s about now that Geoff gets that his dick is about to be zero inches from those fangs. 

“WhoA WAIT WAIT WAIT HANG ON GAVIN-”

Gavin jerks back, frowning.

“What,” he asks, apparently irritated at the interruption.

“You, uh,” and he’s scrambling for words, distracted by Gavin’s hand still on him, further distracted when Gavin licks his lips and he catches a glimpse of the teeth- “Are you- venomous?”

Gavin laughs.

It doesn’t seem like it should belong to him. It is, much like his hand and mouth and everything else, very cold.

“Geoff,” he says, “Of course I am.”

And he drags his forked tongue across the head of Geoff’s cock, takes it in his mouth, and there goes any conversation Geoff might have wanted to have about that.

It’s- very chilly. Unfortunately, Geoff’s always been into temperature play, so his shiver isn’t completely innocent. He clenches his hands, forgetting he fucked the one up on the tree. The pain rushes up his spine with the rest of the fear and arousal and just makes him tip his head back and moan, squeeze his eyes shut so all he can focus on is the stinging and smooth, cold wetness wrapped around his dick. The tongue is… interesting. He never knew his imagination was this vivid.

Gavin starts bobbing his head and it tears Geoff out of the moment because- gag reflex? Gavin isn’t instantly choking on his co-

Snake, he remembers, and every bit of panic comes rushing back at once.

He puts his uninjured hand on Gavin’s head, grabbing at his hair, but it only seems to encourage him- he moans around Geoff’s dick and Geoff starts breathing shallow and fast, eyes stinging, head light. He can’t help wondering wildly if Gavin’s gonna bite him, if this is to lull him into a false sense of security or just for fun, if Gavin’s gonna fucking- eat him alive-

Gavin grabs at Geoff’s hips and presses his nose into Geoff’s stomach, swallowing convulsively around him, and Geoff whimpers, stuttering and helpless. He pulls back after a long minute, gasps for air and comes back like he’s more desperate to make Geoff come than to breathe. Makes several long bobs then puts his hand over Geoff’s in his hair, pulls and pushes on his own head, peers up to see if Geoff’s getting it.

Geoff’s getting it, yeah, but he’s stuck on the copper gleam in the low light, the foreign eyes in Gavin’s familiar face, and Gavin has to pull off and rasp “Do my mouth, Geoff,” before it really comes through.

“Do- what?” Geoff manages. Gavin sighs.

“Fuck my face, Geoffrey,” and okay. Yeah. Okay, cool. Just fuck snake-Gavin’s mouth, he can do that. Sure.

Hesitantly, instinctively nervous of making Gavin throw up on him, he pulls Gavin’s head down slow. Gavin sighs again through his nose and grabs Geoff’s hand again, immediately sets a rough pace that’s got Geoff almost hyperventilating and once he settles into it Gavin moaning, muffled voice cut off every thrust. His hands grab back at Geoff’s thighs, one slipping off and slapping the forest floor hard enough to startle both of them then fisting in the dirt.

Gavin’s been bobbing his head but stops needing to as Geoff really gets into it, lets the fear mingle with how much this is getting him off. His hips start jerking up, then rolling out of his volition, movements turning sinuous, almost snakelike, both hands tight in Gavin’s hair. Tears are rolling down Gavin’s face, regardless of his apparent lack of gag reflex, and he’s starting to slap the ground with his free hand, the other in a truly painful bruising grip on Geoff’s thigh.

The cold is kind of getting Geoff off in earnest now. It almost feels like it’s not that cold, like Geoff’s cock is warming Gavin’s mouth. At some point his head tipped back, eyes closing, but as he starts reaching the edge Geoff makes himself look back down.

There are scales breaking through his skin where it’s visible, on the tops of his thighs and hips and around the base of his dick. Gavin, tears still spilling out, still letting Geoff fuck up into his mouth, looks up at him and smirks as much as he can.

Really hyperventilating now, Geoff lets go, tries to scramble backwards but Gavin takes him by the thighs and drags him back like he’s made of foam. Kisses his hipbone tenderly.

Makes sure Geoff’s watching, eyes flashing, and sinks his fangs all at once into the flesh of Geoff’s upper thigh.

Geoff screams and comes hard.

Underneath the pain and rush of pleasure there’s the awful unbearable sensation of the fangs sliding in, far and further, like a syringe, and the distant thickness of liquid and then burning and-

Geoff wakes up shrieking.

It takes him a moment to come fully to himself, figure out his thrashing limbs and feel the hot tears spilling down his face and manage to shove aside the bedding. Initially he reaches out for Griffon- can’t find her and panics more- remembers she’s on a business trip, briefly despairs, and stumbles out of bed sobbing completely out of his control.

He’s in the shower, turning the water on still in his sweatpants, before he realizes he’s hard. “No no no no nooooo,” he moans, tilts his head up into the spray. Shudders at the chill because it hasn’t warmed up yet. Doesn’t really want to take off his clothes so he just stands there  
until the water’s turned hot and they’re soaked and starting to slide down him.

Closes his eyes tight as he fights his way out of tshirt and sweats and boxers. Hesitantly, carefully runs his fingers over where he still almost expects there to  
be scales. Feels nothing but flesh.

He exhales hard and looks.

Blood is streaming down his leg from two massive punctures in his thigh-

He wakes up sobbing, stumbles out of bed immediately, almost clocks himself on the bedside table. He grabs his phone, checks the time. It’s four in the morning.

Good enough.

This time he doesn’t try showering, just gets himself downstairs.

Hours later, he wakes up in stages, struggling out of sleep and then struggling out of the kitchen chair he fell asleep in waiting for coffee to brew. He’s slept through all three alarms on his phone despite it being right beside him and it’s late enough it’s not even worth rushing to work, so he takes his time, even considers calling in sick and going back to bed- but just as he’s dialing a flash of scales comes back to him and he shudders, locks his phone.

He gets to the office before lunch somehow, feeling drained and worn thin. When he stumbles into the room Michael yells unintelligibly and Gavin, in Geoff’s chair, swings around and lights up. 

Geoff can physically feel the blood drain out of his face as the nightmare comes back to him in complete, technicolor fullness.

“Hey Geoff!” Gavin says cheerfully. He waves a little, seemingly unperturbed by Geoff’s expression (not that it’s an unusual thing for him to be blase about Geoff’s impending heart attacks).

Spinning on his heel, Geoff walks directly back out, ignoring the general call for him to stay, and doesn’t stop walking until he’s at his car again.

He’s still standing there, forehead against the hot metal while he stares into the driver’s side window trying to convince himself to go back when there’s footsteps. And then just the last voice he wants to hear right now.

“Geoff? Are you alright?”

He groans miserably in response and tenses at the hand landing on his shoulder.

“Do you need to go home? Jack said he could drive you if you were too sick-”

Peering cautiously to the side, Geoff sees nothing suspicious about Gavin’s worried face. Except, maybe, that it’s worried.

“I’m good,” he says.

“Good to drive? Or good to work?”

“Uh,” Geoff says, trying to think. “Good.”

Gavin laughs at him. It sends a shock of alarm through every part of him that he does his level best to ignore. He turns his head away, staring at the ground.

“Okay, I’ll tell Jack.”

But he doesn’t leave, waits at Geoff’s side until Geoff looks back at him.

Then he grins, and Geoff can barely contain a whimper as bright fangs slide into view over his lower lip.

“Hope you feel better soon.”


End file.
